The Good Life
by dinkydiddydums
Summary: Just when his morning was beginning to look up, everything blew up in his face. With a splutter, Kurt wiped at the scalding liquid dripping down his hair, face, and onto his coat. The man who bumped into him proceeded to steal his cab. Klaine future-fic
1. Chapter 1

**The Good Life**

Kurt Hummel led an extraordinary life in the eyes of everyone around him. Hell, in his eyes, his life was pretty damn good. He had an incredible job that paid him more than enough to live comfortably; he had good friends, and still remained close to his family after moving to New York. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness. Was it too much to ask for one date? One decent man to approach him and ask him to dinner, was that really an absurd longing? Kurt knew he didn't need to have a boyfriend in order to be happy, mind you, but it would be nice to have some sort of a love-life to speak of.

At twenty-five you would think his tally of conquered men exceeded two. And if he was being brutally honest, he had been the one conquered. Yes, he was known for falling quick and hard, but if you were going to do something, you might as well do it right. Granted, Finn would protest that falling for straight guys wasn't exactly what one would call "doing it right". Kurt shrugged it off, though. If there was one place Kurt had to find someone for him, it would be New York City.

He hoped, anyway. He had been in New York for seven years, and so far, Kurt's love-life was a bit slow. Actually, it was nonexistent. Of course, work had him rather preoccupied. In fact, it could be said that Kurt was too busy to date. He was too successful to be bothered with the trials of the dating-game; a game at which Kurt was never terribly good at, truthfully.

He was pulled from his reverie by a sharp vibration coming from his pocket. Without looking at his phone, he knew it was a message begging for his presence at work from his overly dependent boss. He adored Nathan di Angelo, really, he did—but it was a miracle he could get his way to work at all in the mornings without calling Kurt for help with directions, or asking where the ignition in his car was. The man was even more brilliant than Kurt when it came to fashion, and that was certainly something Kurt respected. Sometimes, though, he wondered how the man managed to start his own magazine at all.

His phone started ringing thirty seconds after he received the message. He rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself as he answered the phone.

"Hello, Nathan." There was a lot of shuffling going on at the other end; Kurt pretended he didn't realize there was an amused smile playing at his lips.

"Kurt? Where are you? I can't find Delaney's article..." Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes once more, even though Nathan couldn't see him. Kurt knew exactly where the article was. Unfortunately, Nathan could be looking right at it and insist he had no idea where it was. "And those pictures from the new Prada line? Did Remington ever get those in?"

"Yes, he gave them to you two weeks ago. They're in your briefcase." There was silence on the other end. "The Burberry one, Nathan." More shuffling and an elated yelp.

"My saviour! I don't know what I'd do without you. I still can't find that article, though, so I need you here ASAP. Pretty please." Kurt laughed airily and assured Nathan that he was on his way. He picked up his latte and handed the young waitress a bill before heading out to hail a cab. _One day, _he promised himself, _I will buy my own car. Taxis are definitely not for me_, he noted with a curled lip as a cab pulled to a stop in front of him.

Just when his morning was beginning to look up, however, everything blew up in his face. With a splutter and a sharp gasp Kurt dropped his now-empty coffee cup onto the ground and wiped at the scalding liquid dripping down his hair, face, and onto his Dolce and Gabbana trench coat. If that wasn't enough, the man who bumped into him was now stealing his cab.

Now, you could step on his toes, you could bump into him, take away his caffeine, and steal his taxi, and Kurt could find in himself to look the other way. These things happened. But the one thing you do _not _do, is ruin his hair and stain his D&G coat and proceed to _walk away _like nothing happened.

"_Excuse me_." Kurt said sharply in that way that really meant "um, what the hell do you think you're doing, you taxi-stealing spawn of Satan". The man turned to him with an annoyed expression, nearly knocking Kurt in the head with the guitar strapped on his shoulder.

"Can I help you?" Kurt gawked at him. Was this guy for real?

"Yes, actually. You _could _buy me another latte to replace the one you just knocked out of my hands, you _could _give me the money it'll cost me to get this dry cleaned," he gestured wildly to his coat, "you _could _give me a towel to dry myself off, but I'll settle for not having my damn cab stolen." The man lifted his—gorgeous—Ray Ban sunglasses of his face and raised an eyebrow at Kurt, biting back a grin. That just upset Kurt all the more. That and the fact that this guy was insanely cute. _No, Kurt. Now is not the time_, he mentally scolded himself.

"My apologies, I didn't realize—"

"That a latte exploded in my face and it was your entire fault?" Kurt finished with deadpanned tone. The man just looked incredibly amused. Kurt suppressed the urge to take his guitar and hit him over the head with it.

"Well, I don't have a towel on me, and I don't have time to replace your latte, but would you mind sharing the cab? I'm running dreadfully late. I'll pay." He shot Kurt a charming but apologetic smile. With a small huff, Kurt shrugged and hopped into the cab. "You are headed to the Upper East Side, right?" The man asked as he scooted in close to Kurt, who simply nodded and hummed his affirmation. "I really am sorry about your coat. It's quite lovely." Kurt looked down to admire his jacket with a small smile, and then remembered he was supposed to be mad at this man.

"It _was_." Kurt stressed, hoping to make him feel guilty.

"My name is Blaine Anderson." Kurt glanced at the hand extended toward him and shook it with a small sigh of defeat.

"Kurt Hummel." Just then, his phone started going off again. Without paying attention to Blaine's inquisitive expression, he pulled it out of his pocket and rolled his eyes at the display screen. "Nathan, you can't possibly expect me to magically appear in your office five minutes after you asked me to be there."

"Oh, right. I knew that. But you are on your way, aren't you?" There was a loud crash and the sound of someone in pain. "Oh! Oh my gosh, Lisa, I'm so sorry..."

"Nathan, could you possibly try not to put your entire staff in the hospital before I get there? Could you manage that? I'm fifteen minutes away." He glanced at Blaine with a small blush as the dark-haired man allowed a crooked grin to break out on his face. God, he really was cute.

"Kurt, I'm not completely helpless—oh, come on, Lisa. It's only one toe, suck it up." Kurt sighed and grinned at the thought of the pretty redhead glaring at Nathan as he turned his back to her.

"_Goodbye_, Nathan. Just stay in your office until I get there so you don't cause anymore damage." He hung up and put the phone back into his pocket.

"You must be someone important." Blaine noted with a small smile.

"No. They're just really dependant." A beat of silence.

"Do you mind my asking who exactly "they" are?" Kurt raised his eyebrows at Blaine in mild shock. "Oh, I don't mean to impose. I understand if you'd rather not say."

"No, no. I'm just...not all that accustomed to being asked about...my work." _About anything, really_, Kurt finished silently. For a moment, Kurt thought Blaine looked a mixture of surprised and sceptical. He admonished the thought when Blaine smiled in understanding. "I'm the assistant to Nathan di Angelo, he—"

"You work at _Fame_?" Blaine exclaimed loudly, much to the annoyance of the cabbie. Kurt spluttered and reddened. "That magazine is like my bible. I have every issue." Blaine smiled at him, and Kurt continued to redden. "Wow, I can't believe you work with Nathan di Angelo." The cabbie pulled up in front of Kurt's stop and Kurt moved to get out, but Blaine stopped him with a hand on his upper arm. "Would you mind...if I called you sometime?" Kurt felt a slow smile spread across his face. Then he remembered that he was staring at Blaine and ducked his head as he blushed. He pulled out a pen and paper from his leather messenger bag and quickly scrawled his number down on it.

"Of course. You do owe me a latte, after all."

* * *

"Well, someone's happy." Lisa grinned at him as he approached her desk. "Did someone slip some Prozac into your morning latte?" Kurt laughed and shook his head. Lisa stared at him in awe. "Okay, _what _is going on? I rarely see you like this?" She stopped in her tracks and her jaw dropped. "Is there a blow-out sale at Sac's?" Kurt giggled—it was a manly giggle, he told himself—and shook his head again.

"It's nothing. I'm just having a good morning." Lisa raised her perfectly manicured eyebrows in scepticism.

"Honey, you are covered in what looks, and smells like your latte, your hair is in a complete disarray and your coat! Kurt, I can't believe you spilled something on your coat, let alone showing up to work like that, and as happy as you are! Something is definitely up. Oh my God! You had mind-blowing sex last night, didn't you?" Kurt laughed and blushed.

"No! Lisa, nothing's up." Lisa scrutinized him through narrowed eyes before humming thoughtfully and turning back to her work.

"Fine. Keep your secrets. I'll find out eventually." She promised with a quick smile.

"Kurt! Oh, thank God, you're here. I'm missing the files that need to be sent in for evaluation. Also, I can't find my sister's phone number...apparently she's been engaged for three months or something...?" Nathan looked flustered as ever as he rattled off his problems of the morning.

"Nathan, stop, breathe. We sent those files out last week. Your sister's number is in your phone. Remember? I put it in for you after she called so you wouldn't lose it. Your plane ticket is booked; you're set to leave in three weeks for the wedding." Nathan paused and thought over what Kurt had said before letting out a breath of relief.

"I would lose my head, if it weren't for you. How did I even live before you got here?" Kurt shrugged. "Oh! We have that Wicked show to go to tonight, right? Don't you know the female lead—?" Just then, Kurt's phone started ringing. The display screen read a number he didn't recognize. He frowned at his phone before answering.

"Hello?" A deep chuckle echoed from the other end.

"God, I'm probably going to sound like a madman, but I wanted to see if you'd given me a false number." He could tell Blaine felt embarrassed for calling him so soon. "Though...I suppose, as long as I've got you here, would you like to go to dinner with me tonight? I know it's rushed and we just met, but I do owe you—" Kurt tried not to be charmed by Blaine, but it was difficult and Kurt was failing miserably.

"I'm actually busy tonight. I'm covering the Broadway production of Wicked—there's a new female lead and...you know, duty calls." Blaine laughed awkwardly.

"Right, of course. You're busy. I'll let you go..." Blaine continued talking but Kurt's attention was called to Nathan and Lisa who were jumping around and pointing at him accusingly. Nathan glared at him.

"_What _are you doing? Is that a man on the phone? Is he asking you out?" Nathan demanded in a whisper. Kurt covered the mouthpiece of his phone.

"He is _not _asking me out on a date; he wants to have dinner to make up for this morning." Lisa and Nathan shared a wide-eyed look.

"This morning? What happened this morning?" Lisa asked eagerly.

"What is the matter with you? He's asking you out! Say yes!" Nathan ordered.

"Kurt?" Inquired Blaine's voice in his ear.

"Say yes!" Both Nathan and Lisa urged him. He glared at them.

"I can't. He wants to go tonight." Nathan and Lisa started freaking out silently again and Kurt continued ignoring them. "Sorry, Blaine." Kurt risked another glance at Nathan who was writing frantically on a notepad.

"Maybe some other time? I'll understand if you're too busy, I know work can get hectic..." Once again, Kurt's attention was called to Nathan who was holding up the notepad that read _ask him to come with us_. Kurt blushed as he thought of having Blaine—who was probably gay, but one could never really be too sure—meet his boss.

"Wow, you know, this was incredibly stupid. You probably don't want to spend time with the guy who ruined your morning and your jacket. I'm sorry I called." Blaine laughed bitterly.

"Wait!" Kurt yelled, much to the astonishment of everyone in the area, as well as himself. "No, I'm sorry. I'm glad you called. Would you like to accompany me to Wicked?" Kurt held his breath in wait for the answer. "Free tickets." He blurted, hoping to bribe Blaine into saying yes—even if he didn't want to see Kurt, he would want to see the production, wouldn't he?

"I'd love to, Kurt." Kurt grinned and tried not to giggle like a teenage girl.

"Fantastic. The car will pick you up at eight." Nathan and Lisa were doing a ridiculous happy dance, right there in the middle of the office; ridiculous, because Lisa could barely walk straight with her injured toe and Nathan was incredibly clumsy. People were peering over their cubicles to gawk at the spectacle. It took everything Kurt had not to laugh at them as Blaine gave him his address. "I'll see you later."

"Until tonight, Kurt Hummel." The line went dead and Kurt was left to swoon with his colleagues.


	2. Chapter 2

**bThe Good Life/b**

Kurt had been seated on his bed, staring into his closet for at least forty minutes. For the life of him, he could not understand why he was obsessing over this. Of course, it was always important to look good, but Kurt never-_never-_had wardrobe issues. His closet was perfect, no one could disagree. So why couldn't he find anything to wear? Well, he partially knew that answer: Blaine. Now, _why _he was worrying about him was a completely separate issue. One Kurt was not ready to tackle.

Then, saving him from his self-deprivation, his phone started ringing. He picked it up and neglected to look at the name flashing across the display screen in his haste.

"Hello?" He asked, a tad breathlessly. _Note to self: do not jump over bed and run across room to reach phone_, he told himself as he cleared his throat. A deep chuckle sounded in his ear. Kurt grinned despite himself. "Hi, Blaine." More laughter. Kurt felt himself flushing; had he sounded too eager? Was Blaine laughing at him because he was cute? Or was he laughing because he was ridiculous?

"Caller ID exists for a reason, darling." Kurt felt his mood plummet drastically.

"Oh. Hello, Nathan." Kurt could practically hear Nathan rolling his eyes. "The tickets are in the front compartment of your briefcase." There was shuffling on the other end.

"That's not why I called…" There was a beat of silence before Nathan cleared his throat. "But if it was, then I would say thank you." Kurt hummed in a sarcastic agreement. "_Anyway_, you should be thanking me for calling. I know you're obsessing over Blaine."

"I am not obsessing over Blaine. I just met him—I don't even _know_ that he's gay." _Though, I would put my money on yes_, Kurt added silently. "Don't you have something you should go look for? I'm tired of you harassing me about this." Nathan just clicked his tongue in response.

"Are you, or are you not standing in front of your closet, at this very moment? Thinking to yourself, _I wonder what Blaine will wear, I wonder what he'd like best, I wonder what will make me look sexiest in his opinion_? Darling, I know you." Kurt huffed to himself and pulled the phone away from his ear to glare at it momentarily.

"You're wrong. I am doing none of those things. In fact, I'm too busy hanging up on you to do any of those things. Goodbye, Nathan." He heard the booming laughter just briefly before he made good on his word. _And now, _he thought bitterly, _back to obsessing_. He would prove Nathan wrong. He could do this without help and he could dress himself without taking Blaine into account. He had been doing it for years, after all. Once again, he resumed position in front of the closet and contemplated the array of designer pieces.

Before he could change his mind, he quickly grabbed a grey Gucci sharkskin suit and the appropriate shirt, bow-tie and pair of shoes to go with it. Nathan didn't know what he was talking about. Kurt admired himself in the mirror and grinned, because, quite frankly, he looked _good_. Also, as a plus, not that he cared or anything, his colour palette was relatively neutral, so it was highly unlikely he and Blaine would clash. He watched his grin grow through his reflection.

His phone started blaring from its place on his nightstand, and remembering the last time he answered, Kurt took a deep breath and calmly walked over to answer it. His answer was much more suave and collected than the last, he noted with pride.

"You're wooing the wrong man, darling. Seriously, caller ID is a beautiful invention, my dear." Kurt resisted the urge to lob the phone out the window. "I presume you managed to dress yourself? Don't spoil it for me!" Nathan added quickly, just as Kurt was about to go on and on about is fabulous outfit. Kurt pouted a bit; despite the fact Nathan couldn't see him. "I was just calling about your hair." Kurt looked at it, fashion in the way it usually was—gelled to the side.

"I'm beginning to get offended." He mumbled, scrutinizing his hair.

"Tone it down, Queen Kurt. I just thought I ought to let you know that you'd be better off pushing your hair back." Kurt considered this in the mirror. "Trust me, will you?" Nathan did know a thing or two about appearances, but Kurt was feeling a little stubborn, due to all the teasing he and Lisa had put him through. "Fine, you've forced me to say it. You look hot with your hair like that. It looks less contained." Kurt erupted in a blush. He wasn't self-conscious, of course, but he wasn't used to such blatant compliments.

"Oh. Well, thanks, I guess." Nathan scoffed under his breath and prattled off in Italian. Kurt laughed and continued to admire his reflection. "See you soon." He ended his call with Nathan and rushed into the bathroom where he would restyle his hair the way Nathan recommended. Half an hour later (only five minutes after Kurt had finished painstakingly placing his hair in the perfect places); Nathan let himself into his apartment.

"Greetings, darl—oh, _hello_." Nathan let out a low whistle and appraised Kurt. "Not what I was thinking, but I like it. And the hair! Am I good, or am I good?" Kurt pretended not to care about all the compliments being thrown around, but when he looked at Nathan's mischievous expression, he knew he had failed. A blush crept its way up his neck and Nathan began laughing at him.

"Would you shut up? We have to leave." Kurt shrugged into his Vivienne Westwood jacket and frowned. It wasn't his first choice, but seeing as his first choice was at a dry-cleaner's, he would have to deal.

"Remind me to set you up on a lot of dates in the future. If nothing else, I can just stare at you. You're gorgeous." Kurt rolled his eyes at his best friend.

"Were you planning on ending this torture sometime in the near future?" Nathan grinned and shrugged, letting Kurt have his moment of victory. "And, please, do not set me up for _anything_. I've seen the kind of guys you date—they're not exactly my type." Kurt's lip curled as he remembered Nathan's last boyfriend—the beefy, tall, weight-lifting type. Kurt supposed his prejudice against Nathan's "type" was thanks to the Neanderthals he had encountered in his lifetime.

* * *

Kurt jumped when his phone started to ring from the depths of his pocket. He almost let it ring until he remembered that Nathan was sitting beside him and too busy laughing at him to be calling him. He cursed his heart for stupidly racing when he saw Blaine's name flash across his display screen.

"Hey, Blaine." Nathan was biting his lip and looking away to keep from laughing at Kurt's eagerness. Kurt glared at him, secretly wondering if Blaine had noticed.

"Kurt, this is going to sound ridiculous, but..." Blaine took a deep breath as though bracing himself. Kurt felt his own throat constrict when the thought occurred to him that Blaine was probably cancelling on him. And then he felt incredibly stupid because he had been assuming Blaine was interested in him the same was Kurt was interested. "I don't know what to wear." Kurt practically gasped with the rush of relieved air that flooded his lungs. "I have been to a Broadway show before, of course, but not on an opening night." Kurt felt himself grinning at the thought of an embarrassed and shy Blaine.

"Whatever you're used to is perfectly fine, really. It's no different." Nathan gasped mockingly and laughed when Kurt glared at him. "I don't mean to sound preachy but...it's just, the car will be there to pick you up in fifteen minutes. We're running on a bit of a time restraint—"

"Because _someone_ couldn't stop checking himself out in the mirror." Nathan interjected shamelessly. Kurt gawped at him in horror and flushed when he heard Blaine laughing into the receiver.

"You'll have to excuse Nathan; he was dropped on his head as an infant." Kurt bit, still glaring at Nathan, who looked incredibly pleased with himself. Kurt was met with silence. In that brief pause, he wondered in panic if Blaine had hung up on him.

"Nathan di Angelo is with you?" Kurt braced himself for the excuse of why Blaine couldn't possibly make it, how he forgot about his flight to Fiji or something equally devastating. "Wow, okay then. Um, I have to...get ready." The line was dead before Kurt could answer back. Kurt shrugged as he decided it was better than being stood up. _Except this isn't a date, remember? _He reminded himself.

"I was only joking, you know. Well, not entirely. You really did spend an awfully long time admiring yourself, but I can't blame you. And you aren't the reason we're under time restraint. Has he really not gotten dressed yet?" Nathan inquired with wide, disbelieving eyes. The rest of the car ride was spent discussing the absurdity of getting ready for a night out in fifteen minutes

* * *

Kurt fidgeted endlessly, much to the annoyance of Nathan. Still, he kept his mouth shut—until the pacing started. If he had known Kurt would act like this, he wouldn't have suggested they wait for Blaine outside the car (also, his legs needed a bit of stretching, but Kurt didn't need to know that little detail) so that he would realize which car was pulled up for him. Granted, there was only one limousine in front of the building, but Kurt insisted that "it slipped his mind" when telling Blaine a car was picking him up.

"_Kurt_! Stop it! You look like a crazy person. Relax." Kurt shot a fierce look at Nathan but stopped his pacing anyway before looking at his watch for the umpteenth time in the past two minutes. Kurt began yammering off in rapid French, to Nathan's dismay. Nathan prepared himself for the oncoming headache; Kurt was only just getting started. Passersby turned to stare at him in awe—mostly women, Nathan noted in amusement—but Kurt paid no heed to them. He only stopped when someone behind him started to laugh. Poised to lash out, Kurt turned on his heel and pointed accusatorily at the man.

"Oh, hello, Blaine." Nathan wondered if Kurt realized just how enthusiastic his grin was—and if he knew how adorable he looked. Nathan took the time it took for the two men to get reacquainted to assess Blaine. He had to admit, Kurt certainly had good taste. Granted, Nathan preferred taller men, and Blaine was even shorter than Kurt, but the man had gorgeous dark hair that was wild and unruly and a very strong, handsome face. _Bravo, Kurt_, Nathan thought as Kurt introduced them.

* * *

Blaine hoped he didn't look as frantic as he felt when he exited the apartment building he lived in. Prior to his brief conversation with Kurt, he was nervous and excited, yes, but still calm. Once Kurt mentioned Nathan di Angelo all of his rational thoughts flew out the window. Quickly, he put on a nice pair of dark jeans, a black button-down shirt and his dark silvery-grey blazer on top of it. He glanced at himself in the mirror, feeling like something was missing.

A part of him said that it didn't matter; it wasn't like they cared what he looked like, anyway. But a smaller part told him that there was the slightest chance that they would care, and that was enough motivation for him to thoroughly inspect his outfit, wondering what could be missing. Then, in the corner of his eye, he saw the drawer where he kept his ties and bowties, and he grinned at his reflection before shuffling through all of them. Then, by some miracle, he saw the bowtie his sister had sent him last Christmas.

He took it over to the mirror and tied it, then gave himself another look-over. The bowtie was lighter than the blazer, and it added a bit of shine to the outfit. He smiled at his reflection in approval. He only hoped Kurt and Nathan di Angelo would find his outfit as impressive as he did. He checked his watch and realized the two men had probably been waiting for over five minutes, cursed himself, grabbed his wallet and ran to the elevator and through the lobby.

When he exited the building, he first took notice to the flashy limousine at the curb. He raised his eyebrows, because while he lived in an upscale community, there were rarely, if ever, limousines picking people up—usually, just the standard black Lincoln. Then, he saw a tall, lean blond man leaning against it nonchalantly. He recognized the golden blond curls immediately, and the cool, collected expression of his green-eyed celebrity crush. Then he smirked at he saw the endearing man from earlier that morning, pacing along the sidewalk, ranting in French.

Kurt shot him a friendly grin once he recognized him. Blaine could hardly keep himself from ginning back. Kurt was adorable in a delicate way that made Blaine want to stop and stare in wonder. His grin turned lopsided as he noted Kurt's outfit, blatantly looking at the man from head to toe and meeting his blushing gaze with raised brows.

"Oh, hello, Blaine." Nathan di Angelo coughed from behind Kurt, smirking as he cleared his throat. Kurt looked over his shoulder briefly, glaring before returning his attention to Blaine. "You look fantastic!" Blaine almost felt offended by his shocked tone. Had he looked bad that morning? He fixed Kurt with a questioning gaze. Kurt blushed and spluttered as he attempted to explain what he meant.

"So, you speak French." Blaine bit back another grin as Kurt let out a relieved breath and smiled lopsidedly. Blaine felt guilty, that while Kurt was speaking, his attention wandered over to Nathan. He was taller than Kurt, more lean than lithe, and far less delicate. Nathan's gaze, however, was fixed solely on Kurt. Blaine felt his easy smile become more strained. He had thought Kurt was being flirtatious toward him, but with the way Nathan was transfixed with the slight man, he had to have been mistaken.

He nearly scoffed out loud at his own foolishness. He didn't know Kurt. He had known him for a twenty-minute long cab ride, most of which was spent in silence being filled with angry sighs on Kurt's part and amused smirks on Blaine's. He honestly didn't know what he was thinking, asking Kurt for his number and then calling him not ten minutes later! Kurt had responded well, though, or so he had thought. Blaine quickly went over his mannerisms—he had been fairly obvious with his intents, hadn't he?

Just then, however, Kurt was peering at him through long, thick lashes curiously, as Nathan extended a hand to him. He would have to work on that. Shoving down his embarrassment, Blaine quickly grabbed the blond man's hand and shook it with vigour. Between Nathan's olive green eyes and Kurt's astonishingly clear oceanic eyes, Blaine was beginning to feel flustered.

"Blaine Anderson." He said quickly, and a perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. _So much for toning it down, _Blaine thought bitterly. Nathan smirked at him, and gestured toward his outfit. Blaine could feel mortification swelling in his chest, and probably would have been blushing if he could. Kurt was being kind, obviously, when complimenting him.

"Nathan di Angelo," the blond introduced himself, as if Blaine didn't already know that. In fact, the smirk he was wearing made it clear that he knew Blaine was well aware of who he was. "I love the jacket." Blaine couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. Nathan di Angelo, fashion expert extraordinaire, liked his jacket. Then, he watched as Nathan looked over his head at Kurt and winked. Blaine nearly scoffed aloud at his foolishness. How had he been so quick to forget the stolen glanced and tiny smiles between Kurt and Nathan?  
Trying to ignore the feeling of idiocy overwhelming him, he ducked into the limousine and hoped Nathan and Kurt would disregard his embarrassingly eager attitude on excitement for seeing the new production of Wicked.

* * *

Kurt was beginning to think his face had become permanently red. Nathan had pointed out the fact that he and Blaine were colour coordinated the moment he could, and from that moment on, Kurt couldn't stop flushing whenever he looked at either man. He really wished Nathan would stop winking at him, though, because Blaine was bound to notice.

He was actually grateful when Blaine sat on the other side of Nathan, because Kurt knew that if Blaine was sitting beside him he would absolutely not be able to pay a shred of attention to the show. He did not fancy a death at Miss Rachel Berry's hands for not being able to compliment her adequately. Thankfully, Kurt had a lot of practice ignoring Nathan, but he noted uneasily that Nathan was being unnaturally quiet.

"Kurt Hummel, every time I see you, you get more and more fabulous." The tiny brunette appraised him as they caught up in her dressing room. She considered him for a moment before smacking his shoulder. "Why haven't I seen you in the last two months?" Kurt laughed her off and pulled her into a tight hug. "Dressed to the nines, as usual." She said with an eye-roll and another assault to his shoulder.

"You were incredible, as usual." Kurt tossed back easily. Rachel gave a nod and half-shrug in agreement and continued to wipe the layers of make-up off her face. Then, there was a knock at the door and a tall man allowing himself in, with a grin and an aloof swagger. Kurt rolled his eyes. "You know, Nathan, I love you, but you're a pain in the ass." Nathan shrugged carelessly and swiftly exchanged air-kisses with the half-caked Broadway star. "Thank you, for sitting between Blaine and me, by the way. It was a good call." Nathan's brows furrowed and he turned to Kurt with a small frown.

"Actually, Kurt, I wanted to tell you—" Nathan stopped speaking when he spotted someone standing at the door. Kurt turned to see Blaine standing awkwardly outside the dressing room. Kurt grinned on instinct, but recovered before Blaine could notice. Rachel, now finished with the task of wiping her face down, turned at raised an eyebrow at her blushing friend.

"Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." Nathan hummed coolly and turned away from Blaine, much to Kurt's shock. Rachel then transferred her questioning look to Nathan who shook his head and dedicated his stare to the blank wall across from him.

"Rachel Berry, this is Blaine Anderson." Kurt gestured between the two of them, inviting Blaine into the dressing room. The two exchanged brief greetings before the room was left in an awkward silence, mostly due to Nathan's cool stance.

"Well, the cast is headed out for a celebration for killing it on opening night, and you guys are more than welcome to join us." Rachel narrowed her eyes at Kurt. "Actually, _you_ don't have a choice. I'll drag you by the hair if I have to—by the way, I love it like that, you should do it more often—but you two have your options." Kurt scrunched his face in distaste at Rachel playfully. In turn, her hand made its way slowly toward his hair. He batted it away quickly; Rachel took this as agreement to her terms and smiled in satisfaction.

"You know I can't refuse a night out, you fiend." Nathan groaned as if it were a punishment. Kurt rolled his eyes but couldn't help but to smile at his friends' antics, nevertheless. He slowly looked over at Blaine, looking incredible with his hands deep in his pockets as he observed them with a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Kurt's face nearly burst into flames all over again. It was that damned bowtie. Good _Lord_, he looked fine in that bowtie, and Kurt had always been a sucker for a man in a good bowtie.

"I'm down." He said when he noticed Kurt's stare. _And we're back to blushing like a school-girl_, Kurt ducked his head in an attempt to hide is obviously red face. The men left the dressing room and waited for Rachel to get out of her costume and into regular clothes.

"Kurt, I wanted to talk to you." Nathan said in his ear quietly as the four of them headed for the limousine, Kurt and Nathan trailing behind Rachel and Blaine who were conversing animatedly about musical arrangements. Kurt raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Nathan.

"You've never had an issue with talking before. Other than, you know, not being able to stop..." Nathan rolled his eyes and put his hands on Kurt's shoulders, stopping them from walking all together.

"I'm serious, Kurt. It's about Blaine." Now, Kurt was incredibly confused. "I just think...I mean, don't you think you're jumping into this a little quickly? You met him this morning—you _hated_ him this morning for ruining to trench coat. I care about you; I don't want to see you hurt." This time, Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I've had my experiences with falling too quickly, believe me, I know. I'm fine." He shrugged off the older man and walked quickly to catch up with Rachel and Blaine, leaving a frustrated Nathan to trail behind him.

* * *

Kurt had eventually left behind Nathan and Blaine with friends of Nathan's as he talked with Rachel and other cast members he had met over his time living in New York. After a couple of hours, however, he decided he should return to Blaine and Nathan, only to find that the two of them weren't with the group he had left them with. He found them some time afterward, together, standing in a secluded corner of the bar.

"I'm not interested, in case you hadn't noticed." He heard Nathan's annoyed and icy voice above the voices and bustle of the rest of occupants of the bar. "You have a lot of nerve, even asking." Nathan looked frighteningly angry as he pushed his way past Blaine and around the corner, only to find a very confused Kurt standing on the other side. Without a second thought, Nathan gripped his hand and dragged him out to the curb of the crowded street, pulling out his phone and dialling a couple of numbers, having conversations that Kurt didn't bother to listen to.

"I'm...a little confused." Kurt said finally, after a few minutes of silence between the two. He glanced up to see his best friend clench his jaw and grind his teeth. "What happened? After Wicked, you acted differently toward Blaine, and then, back there in the bar...?" Nathan's grip on his hand tightened reflexively when a drunken man walked by and scoffed at the two men, tossing out a few vulgar slurs carelessly.

"I told you not to get attached so quickly, but do you listen? No, of course not. It's completely natural to fall head over heels for a guy in twenty minutes, after all." Kurt frowned at pulled his hand from his friend's clasp, folding his arms firmly over his chest, probably looking like a pouty child and not caring. Nathan sighed and outstretched his hand in a sort of apology. Kurt eyed it for a moment before slipping his hand back into Nathan's.

"Now, try again, without insulting me." Kurt prompted quietly.

"God, that douche. I thought he had been flirty, in front of his building, but I dismissed it—I didn't know the guy, it could have just been his personality, you know? Besides that, I trust your judgement, you know I do. But then, during Wicked, he kept brushing his palm against mine, and even attempted to put his arm around me at one point, but chickened out last minute, thank _God_. And then, just now, in the bar, he had the nerve to ask me out! On an actual date!" Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat and stared at the road. Nathan and Finn were right, he fell too fast and he fell for the wrong guys.

"Well, I guess I can't hold that against him, it's not like we were on a date or anything..." Kurt mumbled.

"Kurt, what are you saying? Don't make excuses for him. He had _no justification_—you were the one to invite him and he—he used you. He used you to get to me." Nathan eyed him wearily. "Doesn't that upset you in the least?" Kurt sighed and shrugged.

"Well, of course I'm upset! You know that I thought he was interested, but I can't help that he'd rather go on a date with you, than me. Granted, he could have gone about it in a better way." Kurt muttered agitatedly. Nathan squeezed his hand comfortingly, but when Kurt looked at his face, he could see the satisfied smile creeping onto his face. He rolled his eyes. Only Nathan would be happy about Kurt's anger. "Stop smiling."

"I can't help it. I've finally knocked some sense into you." Nathan grinned and untangled their hands, wrapping his arm around Kurt's shoulders. "Blaine on the other hand...what kind of idiot goes for me when he can have you? Doesn't anyone know you're the real brains behind the operation?" Kurt thought that over for a moment, and then shrugged.

"That's true." Nathan laughed and opened the door to the limousine that had pulled up in front of them. He bowed and gestured gallantly for Kurt to slide in. In a moment of sheer insanity, Kurt curtsied girlishly before the two men laughed their way to their respective homes.

* * *

Kurt groaned and let his head fall against the steering wheel of his new car with a thud. Of course, he had finally bought himself a car and not two months later, it was broken down in a parking lot. He made one last fruitless attempt at turning the key in the ignition, only to hear the splutter of a failing engine. He knocked his head against the wheel a couple more times before hopping out of the horrible vehicle.

"Well, it certainly isn't the battery." He grumbled to the large, beefy man wearing the same lumberjack flannel his father was so fond of. "Thanks anyway." He unhooked the jumper cables and tossed them into the trunk of his good-for-nothing car irritably.

"I could check it out, if you'd like. I'm no expert but..." The man eyed Kurt's clothes and general style pointedly. While thankful for his help, Kurt couldn't help but to roll his eyes.

"That's sweet, but I can handle it. Thanks for your help." The man shrugged and left Kurt to his work. With a sigh and an apologetic glance at his shirt, he rolled up his sleeves. _Great, I'm going to be late, and my shirt is going to be wrinkled_, Kurt thought sourly as he lunged into the task at hand. He resurfaced half an hour later, absolutely exasperated with the world. "_Why_?" He yelled into the hood of his car. Someone behind him cleared their throat and chuckled at him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, counted to ten and willed himself not to kill the throat-clearer.

"Need some help?" Kurt turned and fixed a cold, blank stare on a tall, dark-haired man in navy coveralls. "Have you tried giving her a boost?" Kurt could not stop his eyes from rolling dramatically.

"No. The thought absolutely did not cross my mind ten hours ago, when the car didn't start." So it was a bit dramatic, so what? He was entitled to be a bit short-tempered at this point, he thought. "Now, if you'll excuse me." He turned his back to the man and eyed the engine, at a complete loss.

"I could take a look, if you'd like." _Another helpful man, _Kurt thought sarcastically. "You look confused." Kurt huffed, loud enough for a man to hear.

"I'm not a helpless damsel in distress, okay? I know a thing or two about cars, thank you very much. Ten years in the garage with your father will do that to you." Kurt took his customary defensive standing' arms crossed and hip jutted out. For good measure, he threw in a cocked eyebrow. The man just laughed and shrugged.

"Never said you were. I've been watching you for the past fifteen minutes. I just figured this was beyond your expertise. Look, if you don't trust the coveralls, the shop is right there." The man pointed over his shoulder to the mechanic's shop with a smirk. Kurt wanted to gag. He stood there for a moment, hesitating, before he heaved another sigh and nodded, waving his hand frantically toward the engine. "I trust it's not an oil-related issue?" Kurt scoffed.

"Do I even have to answer?" The man's laugh bounced off the metal of the engine and hood. Kurt decided he liked that laugh, it was deep and good-natured. That, however, did not mean he liked this man. He was far too amused for Kurt's liking. "I think it might be the transmission. The sounds when I tried to start it up were strange." The man sighed and leaned away from the car.

"In that case, this won't be a quick fix." Kurt paled visibly.

"I actually don't have the slightest clue about cars, really, I could be completely wrong." He said in one breath. The man—his nametag said Liam—chuckled at Kurt again and shook his head.

"Not buying it. Like I said, I've been watching you. Besides, I think you might be right. I can't seem to see anything that just came loose." With a groan, Kurt rubbed his face with his palm, and then remembered that his hand was covered in oil because he didn't have anything to clean his hands with, and oh God, now Liam was laughing outright, whether it was because Kurt had wiped oil all over his face or because of his reaction, Kurt didn't know—

"You've got a little something..." Kurt glared at him openly, daring him to say another word. Liam just raised his hands in defence and bit back a grin. "Alright, well, just put this baby into drive and we can push her to the garage. You picked a convenient spot to break down." Kurt and Liam pushed the car, the entire time Liam was laughing as Kurt was grumbling about what a piece of junk the car was. Just as they were at the garage's entrance, Kurt's phone started going off. "Go ahead, answer it. _Hey, Brad_! Help me out." A shorter man with flaming red hair came bounding out of the garage and took Kurt's spot, pushing the car.

To Kurt's confusion, Brad raised his eyebrows at him and then turned to Liam with a knowing smile. Kurt just watched the exchange, hoping to understand more, but Liam was clearly aware that Kurt was still watching and gave nothing away. With a shrug, Kurt pulled out his phone and scoffed at the display screen.

"Hello, Nathan." He said in an exaggeratedly annoyed tone.

"Oh, good, you aren't dead. Where are you? What happened? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago." Nathan blurted in one breath. Kurt smiled to himself at his friend's inability to handle his own company alone. "I mean, you're okay right? You're coming to work, of course. Right?" Despite himself, Nathan sounded incredibly worried.

"I'm _fine_, thanks for asking." Kurt said with an eye-roll and sticking his hip out, regardless of the fact Nathan couldn't see him. "I'm having some car issues. I'll probably be a while." Kurt glanced over at the two men standing by his car, sighed and allowed his body to fall limp against the wall. His gaze flickered back up to the two men when he heard a sharp "_hey_!" and a few snaps. Liam was idly wiping his hands off on a filthy rag and looking directly at Kurt unabashedly while Brad was waving a hand in his face, trying to get his attention.

"Kurt?" Nathan's voice shook him out of his trance; with a blush, he looked away from the mechanic and forced himself to keep his eyes on the dirty concrete.

"Uh, sorry. Zoned out for a bit there." Kurt swallowed through a dry throat and cleared his throat to cover it up. "I'll take a cab if it's going to take very long." Nathan began rambling, but Kurt's mind was brought back to Liam, now standing in front of him and pointing over his shoulder to a reception area.

"You should probably wait in there." Liam told him with a smirk when Kurt remained leaning against the wall.

"Oh, right." Nathan stopped talking immediately once Kurt had spoke. He mentally swore at himself, knowing Nathan was going to go off.

"Kurt Hummel, was that a man? Who are you with? _Are you flirting_?" Kurt cringed as Nathan got progressively louder, but was relieved when Liam didn't seem to have heard anything. _He does seem to have a decent poker face, though_, Kurt thought as he contemplated the taller man.

"_No_, Nathan." He said forcefully, hoping the older man would let the topic slide. He should have known better than to get his hopes up.

"You _are_ flirting! Kurt Hummel, you man-whore. What happened to our love?" Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed in irritation.

"Nathan, please, shut up." He begged quietly as Liam when behind the desk and left Kurt standing in the middle of the small, tidy room. There was silence on the other end. "Nathan?"

"Look, Kurt, you're my best friend. I don't want to see you hurt, and with the way you are...I have to worry." Nathan sounded like he was tiptoeing on thin ice. Kurt scowled down at the carpet, upset by what Nathan was saying.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked harshly. Nathan moaned in frustration.

"You fall way too fast! And you fall _hard_, Kurt. Just be careful." He paused and considered his next words. "And hurry up, I need you here." The line went dead before Kurt could react. With a huff, he plopped himself onto the ugly blue sofa in the bland room. Unable to resist, he looked up at Liam from under his lashes, pleased to find that the other man was preoccupied with shuffling through a pile of forms. Liam was incredibly cute, he had to admit. If you went for that whole rugged thing, that is. And Kurt definitely did not "go for that".

Then, before he could look away, Liam's eyes were locked with his and he was grinning in that infuriating amused way he did and Kurt was blushing for being caught staring. What was it that Nathan had said again? _Oh, right. I fall too fast_. Kurt tore his eyes away and looked at the hideous grey carpet, thinking that Nathan certainly had a point.

"Was that your boyfriend?" Liam asked, innocently enough. However, Kurt managed to choke on his intake of breath and deepened in colour, looking up in disbelief. Liam shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, man. Shouldn't assume." Kurt felt his mouth opening and closing repeatedly as he wracked his brain for words to say in response.

"I'm—I mean, I _am_—I just, I'm not—I..." Liam was dangerously close to laughing outright in Kurt's face, but before Kurt could continue making a fool of himself, his phone went off again. Kurt had never been so thankful for a phone-call in his entire life. "Hello!" He answered quickly, turning his back to Liam and cringing at his own stupidity. There was a deep chuckle on the other end that only reminded Kurt of the fact that he really did fall too hard and too fast.

"Something you want to share, Kurt?" Kurt smiled despite himself.

"Other than being madly in love with you? Obviously not." Kurt joked back. Blaine laughed. It had been a few months since the whole incident with Nathan and Blaine and Kurt had actually become good friends. Even Nathan had forgiven him—though Kurt was suspicious it was just to take Blaine shopping. "So, what's up?"

"Nathan's frazzled. He just called and asked me if I had any idea where the Burberry photographs were. He might have mentioned your car troubles a few million times." Kurt groaned at his friend's hopelessness. "Is everything okay? Do you need a ride?"

"Perfectly fine. What am I going to do with that boy? If he calls again, tell him they're in his top left drawer. Actually, better yet, don't answer at all. He shouldn't be bothering you when you're rehearsing." Kurt paused and snorted a laugh at himself. "In fact, I shouldn't be bothering you while you're rehearsing."

"It's perfectly alright. We're taking a small break. I was actually going to call anyway, to see if you're still okay for tomorrow night at the Hard Rock?" Kurt mentally kicked himself. Crap, how had he forgotten?

"Uh...right. Yeah, I'll be there." Blaine laughed.

"You forgot." Kurt laughed with Blaine.

"Just a little bit. But it's completely fine; I don't have any other plans. Sure beats spending the night alone in my apartment." He and Blaine said goodbye and Kurt turned to see Liam watching him intently, leaning over the desk. "Um, so, could I get an estimate on the car or...?" Liam shot him a bitter half-smile. Kurt was taken aback by it, but his poker face was back before Kurt could even take it in.

"It won't be done by tonight, I can tell you that. So, if you're planning on wooing your...girlfriend? With a sweet ride, you'd better rent." Kurt flushed but was a bit angered by Liam's tone. He didn't even know this guy, what was with the judgmental attitude?

"I don't have a girlfriend. Or, more accurately, a boyfriend, for that matter. Not that it's any of your business." Liam cringed and shook his head.

"Right, right. My bad. But..." Liam studied Kurt for what felt like hours, though Kurt knew it wasn't anymore than a few seconds. "I can't believe that." He admitted quietly. Kurt felt his blush come back with a vengeance. "Wow, I'm way out of line, here." Liam laughed at himself and leaned away from the desk, looking down at the mess of papers again. "So, uh, I noticed you still have warranty on the car, so the dealership will handle all of the costs for repair. If you'd rather have another shop take care of it, then I'd be happy to tow it."

"No, it's fine. I'm sure you're all very capable." Kurt muttered quietly, feeling at a loss of words after understanding what Liam had said. "Thank you, very much." Kurt fidgeted. "I didn't even realize there was a garage..."

"All in a day's work." Liam said brightly with a grin. Liam took him through some paperwork that would be sent to the dealership before allowing him to leave. "Need me to call a cab," he glanced down at the name on the forms, "Kurt Hummel?" He offered. Kurt shook his head and pulled out his cell phone, making the call himself. Once he was off, he was surprised to see Liam still standing there, watching him.

"Um, thanks, again." Kurt mumbled lamely. "I appreciate all your help." Kurt smiled and headed for the door.

"You've still got oil smudged across your face, you know." Kurt paused at the door, knowing his face was bright red. He backed away and smiled up at Liam.

"I knew that." Liam laughed and hummed in sarcastic agreement, pulling a clean rag from his pocket and handing it over. "Did I get it?" Kurt guessed the answer was no, by the way Liam was laughing and taking the rag from his hands.

"Not even close." More gingerly than Kurt would have ever expected possible, Liam ran the rag across his forehead, temple and cheekbone a few times, avoiding looking Kurt in the eye. Once his face was devoid of grease, Liam smiled and put the rag back into his pocket. "Good to go."

"Thanks. Again." _Because the first billion times didn't count_, Kurt scolded mentally. Liam shrugged nonchalantly. For the second time, Kurt walked toward the door.

"Uh, Kurt? I know, I'm probably making an ass of myself, but I was wondering if—well, if I could call you sometime. Or, if you'd like to go out sometime. On a date, that is." Kurt had to bite his lip to stop the grin that was begging to be released.

"I'd like that." Kurt said, blushing yet again. A relieved and ecstatic smile broke out over Liam's face.

"I knew it! Liam, get your ass back out there and start working!" Brad yelled playfully. Well, sort of playfully, Kurt noted, as he looked just about ready to toss any heavy objects he could find directly at Liam. With a small smile and wave, Kurt was out the door and waiting for cab to arrive at the address of the garage.

* * *

"If you don't stop smiling, I'll to be forced to resort to violence." Nathan yelled across the room, tossing a balled napkin at Kurt. This only made Kurt grin more, to his disappointment. "I am being completely serious, Kurt. You may be quick and nimble, but when it comes down to it, three of your steps are equivalent to one of mine. Also, you punch like a girl." The napkin came soaring back, hitting Nathan square in between the eyes.

"Ten points for Hummel." Kurt said childishly with a tiny booty-shake. Nathan tried to roll his eyes and act like the adult he was supposed to be, but that wiggle was too much. Kurt let out a loud _oof_ when the two men collided with the large leather sofa. "Ugh. This is unfair, we agreed upon no tackling. Ever." Kurt groaned as he shoved Nathan off of him.

"You're still smiling. Stop it right now." Nathan wagged a finger is Kurt's face dangerously. This did nothing to ease Kurt's giddiness. Nathan gawped down at him in disbelief. "I'll touch your hair, I swear I will!" Kurt giggled, knowing he sounded stupid and girly and not caring. "What have you done with my best friend? This guy must be incredibly cute."

"Well, after looking at you everyday pretty much anything is an improvement." Nathan feigned offense and reeled back, rolling of Kurt and landing on his feet gracefully. Kurt continued to giggle.

"Are you kidding me?" Nathan struck a pose in the middle of Kurt's living room. "I'm gorgeous—just look at my stacked anatomy." Nathan crossed his arms and frowned at Kurt doubled over in laughter.

"Am I interrupting?" Nathan ignored his hysterical friend and waved Blaine in. "Is he...well?" Blaine asked cautiously, approaching the two men slowly.

"He lost his shit because some hot mechanic wants to bone him." Nathan stated bluntly. Kurt's laughed subdued somewhat as he threw a pillow at Nathan—missing by a long shot—and rolled his eyes. "What? Why beat around the bush? It's true." This time, the pillow collided with Nathan's stomach.

"It is _not_ true. One date does not mean sex." Nathan scoffed at Kurt's naivety.

"Yeah, whatever you say, Kurt. You know as well as I do that this guy wants to be your big spoon." Kurt flushed and looked around for something else to toss at the older man. Blaine was standing a few feet away, watching Kurt with raised eyebrows. "He's changed, Blaine. He came into work with his silk shirt _ruined_ with oil stains and he didn't even care." Nathan shuddered. "Huh. Now that I think about it, that's pretty much how it happened with you."

"Nathan!" Kurt screeched, blushing bright red. Nathan just laughed and dodged the onslaught of pillows that Kurt was throwing impossibly fast.

"Hold your fire! I need to pee!" Nathan ran to the bathroom, laughing at Kurt the entire way.

"Coward!" Kurt called after him, pouting on the couch when he was only met with more laughter in response. Blaine was suddenly seated beside him, grinning good-naturedly. Kurt laughed in a high-pitched awkward way before fixing his gaze out the large window.

"So, do you like this guy?" Kurt looked at Blaine in shock.

"Well, I don't really know him...but he is rather charming." Blaine stared at Kurt long and hard. "What?"

"It's just—you're sure you want to jump into this? Like you said, you don't really know him." Blaine said quickly, cringing when Kurt stood up and glared down at him. "I'm just worried for you." Blaine said with a small sigh and lifting his hands in defence.

"Worried? Worried how, pray tell?" Kurt said as his hip extended in the posture that meant things were getting serious and Kurt was getting fierce. Blaine braced himself.

"Kurt, I just don't want you getting hurt. You're...vulnerable. A lot of people could pick up on that. He could be..." Blaine trailed off, deciding that not finishing that thought was the best option he had, as Kurt was now fuming.

"Using me? He could be using me." Kurt finished. Blaine half-shrugged and nodded. "No offense, Blaine, but you don't get to warn me about being used. Maybe you don't remember what happened when _we_ met, but I do. And, for your information, Liam doesn't know anything about me, other than my name and the kind of car I drive." Blaine winced as Kurt brought the "incident" into the conversation.

"I've apologized a thousand times, Kurt—" Blaine started but Kurt cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Never mind, Blaine." He resumed his seat, now at the far end of the sofa. When Nathan returned, the two were sitting in silence, watching Project Runway stiffly.

"What did I miss?" He asked himself quietly before emerging himself in the war zone with a sigh.


End file.
